Iâve been teaching a plein air workshop this week, and the air is unusually hot and heavy for Maine. Being a lifelong resident of the northeast, I donât like heat and humidity. In addition, I promised my students from Virginia that it would be cool here, and Mother Nature made a liar out of me. (To be fair, itâs still cooler than Virginia.)
Years ago, my friend Sâ moved to Maine from California with the assistance of her mother. She loved her new house until the first really hot day. She flipped the switch on her thermostat to âcoolâ and waited. And waited. âMom,â she wailed, âthe air conditioning is broken!â
Beth and Libby painting on Beauchamp Point.
âWelcome to the real world,â her mom said. âYou donât have air conditioning.â My California born-and-bred friend had no idea that there were houses in America without it.
Yves painting a house in Camden.
Our old New England farmhouse doesnât have it, and I generally donât care. Itâs insulated, which helps a lot. We use fans, we cross ventilate, and shower in cool water. That works great for in the house. But outdoors is a different story.
Outdoors, hydration is key, but I couldnât keep ahead of it this week, as hard as I tried.
Jeanne-Marie achieving perfect balance on a rock.
Student show, Friday July 12, from 5-7 PM
Today will be warm but breezy, so it should be perfect weather to come by my gallery for a show of my studentsâ work from this week.
We are located at 394 Commercial Street, Rockport. If youâve ever wondered what kind of painting gets done in a workshop, this is an excellent opportunity to find out.
Spring Greens, 8X10, oil on canvasboard, is available through the Red Barn Gallery.
The first person in the door of Red Barn Gallery in Port Clyde yesterday was a lovely lady from Industry, ME. She told me she often feels uncomfortable entering an art gallery, especially since she doesn’t intend to buy. Why is that, I asked her. She couldn’t give me a clear answer but said, “this place doesn’t make me feel that way.”
I think I’m typical as a gallerist in that I like people stopping by to talk art, both at the Red Barn Gallery and my own space at 394 Commercial Street in Rockport.
Even though my job at the gallery was dusting, I skirted around Shelley Nolan’s exquisite glass. Yes, I was intimidated.
Come to our openings and meet our members and guest artists;
If you see a piece of art you really like, buy it. I have never known anyone who regretted buying a piece of art that spoke to them;
And lastly, don’t ever, ever, feel obligated to buy. And don’t let that keep you away from us.
There’s nothing pompous or intimidating about the Red Barn Gallery-it’s in a converted barn, above a bar. That probably helped my visitor relax, and it’s a heads-up to anyone designing a gallery space to not be too obsessed with design and fashion. It’s a pity when anyone who loves art feels daunted by galleries. I turned our conversation over, trying to think of reasons why it might happen.
Intimidation: Galleries sometimes have an air of exclusivity and luxury, which can be intimidating to those of us from more practical backgrounds. When they’re overly opulent, they can make us feel ill-at-ease.
Price perception: We read all the time about high-end art that sells for absurd prices. Art fanciers may assume they can’t afford art at all, or fear they’ll be judged if they don’t buy anything. The reality is that most art is made by middle-class artists for a middle-class audience. Yes, it’s more than you’d pay at TJMaxx, but it’s not stratospherically expensive, either. You could spend more on a handbag than most of the pieces at the Red Barn Gallery, and they’ll have far more lasting power.
My wall at Red Barn Gallery. It’s neat, well-lighted, easy to look at, and definitely not intimidating.
Self-consciousness: Some people may worry about being judged by the staff or other customers if they don’t look affluent. I have felt that myself in some Manhattan galleries, but it’s not much of an issue here in Maine, where we choose between flannel shirts and Sunday-go-to-meetin’ flannel shirts.
Sales pressure: You’re very likely to get attentive customer service in a gallery, but don’t assume that means we’re pushing you into a purchase. It’s just that (see above) we like talking about art.
If I ever get bored while working, there are fabulous views out the front and back windows. Port Clyde is lovely!
My personal bĂȘte noire is disinterested or supercilious gatekeepers. And therein lies the paradox of galleries. What’s right for a $300 or $3000 painting is probably not right for a $300,000 painting or a $3 million painting. The same thing that turns me off might make a person interested in a six-figure painting feel more pampered and exclusive.
